The Same Deep Water As You
by SkyWarrior108
Summary: They don't see the Quinn that she does. No one does. Punk!Quinn/Goth!Rachel AU.


**Author's note:** This fic was prompted by reluctantgrownup for the FaberryCon fic fundraiser. Hope you like it. :)

And, as always, many thanks to my awesome beta, poetzproblem. :)

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**The Same Deep Water As You**

Rachel has just finished wiping away the last remnants of her eyeliner when her phone chimes with a new text message. A small rush of excitement—a rarity these days—courses through her when she picks up her phone from the edge of the sink and sees who it's from—a picture of Quinn's wide, green eyes and wild, pink hair alongside the text.

**I'm coming over. Leave your window open.**

Rachel frowns a little as she reads the message. There are only ever two reasons Quinn won't come through her front door (and past her parents)—if Quinn isn't sober or if her dad isn't sober. Rachel's stomach twists in realization then. Quinn's perfect spelling is the biggest tipoff that it's the latter that has Quinn seeking refuge in her room at this late hour.

Worrying her lower lip, Rachel makes her way over to her window, unlocking it and pulling it open—the warm air of the summer night pouring into her bedroom. Instinctively, she pokes her head outside, casting a long look down the street, hoping for a glimpse of Quinn, even though she knows it's going to take some time for her to arrive.

Rachel lets out a sigh as she moves over to her iPod, looking for something that both she and Quinn will enjoy listening to and trying to distract herself from the anxiousness that's threatening to take over. When it comes to Quinn, it's hard for Rachel _not_ to worry about her.

They run with different crowds—Quinn with a rowdier group that smokes under the bleachers, cuts class, and typically spends their time drinking and getting high, and Rachel with a few kids from band, who prefer to spend time listening to and playing music and are decidedly straightedge. Her friends don't like Quinn very much, but they don't see the Quinn that she does.

No one does.

The heavy clunk of combat boots on the roof outside her window grabs Rachel's attention, and she looks over to see fishnet-covered legs and pink hair coming through her window. Rachel watches Quinn carefully as she raises her head, and her heart drops into her stomach when she catches sight of the shiner forming under Quinn's left eye.

"Hey," Quinn greets her quietly, eyes guarded, and already Rachel knows they aren't going to talk about whatever drove her here tonight.

"Hey," Rachel replies, doing her best to stop the litany of questions threatening to burst forth. But she's never been particularly good at ignoring things—not the way Quinn does. "Do you need any ice?" she asks, unable to help herself.

Quinn tenses a little, her jaw tightening, and when those green eyes glisten, Rachel almost regrets asking. Quinn shakes her head and swallows, averting her gaze. "No," she mutters, stuffing her hand into her pocket and pulling out a pack of Marlboro Reds. "I just need a cigarette."

Quinn climbs back out the window then, and Rachel follows after her—the two of them settling down and sitting side-by-side on the roof in what has become a familiar position. Strains of The Cure's "Lovesong" filter out from Rachel's bedroom, broken up only by the sound of Quinn flicking her lighter and taking that first drag of her cigarette.

They sit together in companionable silence for a few moments, and Rachel can't help but watch Quinn as she continues to smoke, momentarily growing jealous of the filter between Quinn's lips as she takes another drag.

Noticing her staring, Quinn raises an eyebrow and reaches for her pack before offering it to Rachel. "You want one?"

Rachel blushes and shakes her head, tearing her gaze from Quinn's mouth. "No, I'm good," she says, chancing a glance back up at Quinn, fully expecting to see a smirk playing at her lips. But to her surprise, Quinn is gazing at her almost affectionately.

"I like that about you, you know," Quinn says softly, her lips curving up slightly.

Rachel furrows her brow in confusion, unsure of what Quinn means.

"That you're good," she elaborates before drawing more smoke into her lungs and quickly expelling it, her gaze shifting away from Rachel. "That you're not a fuck up like me."

"Quinn, you are _not_ a fuck up," Rachel argues hotly. She's not sure what's worse—hearing Quinn talk about herself this way or hearing other people talk that way about her.

Quinn smiles ruefully and shakes her head as she flicks away the ash at the end of her cigarette.

"You're not," Rachel says insistently, shifting a little closer to Quinn and gazing at her determinedly. "You're so much more than you give yourself credit for."

Quinn scoffs. "Don't kid yourself, Rachel. You know the reputation I have, and I have it for a reason. You know what everyone thinks of me. They think I'm a drugged-up delinquent. Hell, even your friends feel that way about me."

"They're wrong," Rachel says with conviction, shaking her head slightly as her voice grows a little softer. "You're so smart and talented, and you're really kind of wonderful."

Green eyes flash then as Quinn's jaw clenches. "Tell that to my dad," she mutters before angrily snuffing her cigarette out on the sole of her left boot and flicking it into the shrubs beneath the rooftop.

Rachel frowns, and her heart goes out to Quinn, who refuses to actually look at her. But her anger and sadness is evident by the way her eyes glisten and her body tenses, and it makes Rachel ache for Quinn. "He's an idiot for not seeing it."

"He sees what everyone else does," Quinn argues, her voice laced with bitterness. "I'm a stain on society, a deviant, a sinner. Nothing but a disappointment."

"Quinn…" Rachel starts, her protectiveness flaring up and making her unable to keep from asking any longer. "What happened tonight? What did he do?"

Her eyes close, and Quinn lets out a long, steadying breath. "I don't want to talk about it," she answers quietly, her voice cracking a little, and Rachel feels her heart do the same.

"You know you can talk to me about anything."

"I know," Quinn replies gratefully, taking another steadying breath and seeming to gather herself again. Her lips curve up into small, wistful smile then as she opens her eyes and gazes out toward the street. "I know that I can talk to you. I actually trust you, unlike the skanks."

Rachel's heart swells at Quinn's admission, but it still makes her feel sad. "Why are you friends with them if you can't trust them?"

Quinn shrugs. "I have fun hanging out with them most of the time. It's just…" she trails off, biting her lower lip.

"What?" Rachel asks curiously.

"They don't get me like you do," she confesses, turning to finally look at Rachel once more, and the amount of emotion shining out from her eyes almost takes Rachel's breath away. "Like I said before—you're _good_. You're nothing like them, and I'm so grateful for that."

Quinn reaches over and tangles her fingers with Rachel's then, and Rachel squeezes lightly, enjoying the pleasant tingle that flows through her at the contact. Quinn's palm is warm against her own, and, not for the first time, Rachel muses that her hand fits perfectly in Quinn's.

But she can't tear her eyes from Quinn, who looks into her own, searching. Rachel feels the air between them shift, and her anticipation grows as Quinn carefully leans in before pressing her mouth to Rachel's in a soft but insistent kiss.

Rachel's eyes flutter closed, and warmth rushes through her at the feeling of Quinn's lips on hers. She returns the kiss with equal measure before deepening it, brushing her tongue against Quinn's. She tastes like cigarettes and jolly ranchers, and Rachel sighs into her mouth as she twists her hands into the front of Quinn's tank top, drawing herself further into Quinn.

It's not the first time they've done this, but it never fails to both excite and settle Rachel in a way that nothing else ever has. She doesn't know what she and Quinn are exactly—they don't talk about it—but Rachel finds that she's surprisingly okay with that. Because this, right now, feels right.

Quinn's mouth continues to move against her own, their tongues sliding together as things slowly grow more heated between them. Needing to be closer to Quinn and never breaking their kiss, Rachel straddles Quinn, settling down in her lap. Strong hands come to rest against her upper back, holding Rachel close, and Rachel buries her fingers in short, pink locks, pressing herself into Quinn.

Wanting to taste more of her, Rachel breaks their kiss and trails her lips down to Quinn's pulse point, brushing them just above the bondage collar that adorns her neck. She breathes Quinn in, and there's something so comforting about the smell of smoke and leather mixed with Quinn's skin. She lets out a warm breath against Quinn's neck, causing the girl beneath her to shiver in response.

She starts to press open-mouthed kisses along Quinn's neck, earning a pleasured sigh as fingers tighten in the back of her shirt, and the sound makes Rachel's kisses more insistent as she suckles at her skin. She loves making Quinn feel good, and there's a part of her that is so relieved that Quinn is with her tonight instead of God knows where getting drunk or high.

Rachel wonders if it's possible for her to make Quinn feel so good that she would stop drinking and taking drugs altogether, and she decides then that she's sure as hell going to try. She releases her hold on Quinn's hair and slides her hands down to bare arms, gripping onto them lightly and subtly rocking her hips into Quinn as she captures Quinn's earlobe with her mouth.

Quinn's hold on Rachel tightens further as she lets out a gasp. Encouraged, Rachel slips a hand between their bodies, cupping one of Quinn's breasts through the thin material of her shirt and squeezing lightly, thankful for her aversion to bras.

"Rachel," Quinn breathes out, and God does Rachel love the way her name sounds when Quinn says it. Quinn's right hand trails down Rachel's left arm and gently wraps around her wrist. "Rachel, wait."

Worried that she pushed things too far, Rachel stills her hips and lowers her hand from Quinn's breast before pulling back to look at Quinn. "I'm sorry."

Quinn's cheeks are a little flushed and her eyes are noticeably darker. "Don't be," she says. "I liked it. But…"

"But what?"

Quinn wraps both arms around Rachel once more, holding her close. "I don't know if I'd be able to stop myself if you kept touching me like that, and I'm not taking you on your roof," she murmurs before pressing a kiss to the underside of Rachel's jaw.

Rachel smiles a little, feeling warmth blossom in her chest at Quinn's chivalry. "Do you want to go back inside?"

"In a bit," Quinn replies before pressing a kiss to the top of Rachel's shoulder. "I want to stay out here awhile longer."

Rachel nods and snakes her arms around Quinn, returning her embrace as she tries to cool down after getting a little worked up from what she and Quinn just did. But there's no doubt Rachel likes this—holding Quinn in her arms, taking care of her in a way that no one else does—just as much, maybe even more than kissing Quinn.

Because even stronger than her desire to make Quinn feel good is Rachel's need to make Quinn _happy_. To make her stop thinking all those terrible things about herself—all those terrible things she knows her dad tells her on an almost daily basis.

Rachel tightens her hold on Quinn then. "I meant what I said earlier," she says softly but firmly. "You're really wonderful."

She feels Quinn shake her head slightly. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," Quinn replies just as quietly, but Rachel doesn't miss the note of gratitude in her voice.

"I don't know what I did to deserve _you_," she counters.

"You deserve _better_ than me," Quinn argues, drawing her head back to look at Rachel. Her lips curve up into a smirk then. "But I'm selfish, so I'm not giving you up." She leans in and presses her lips to Rachel's, causing her to momentarily forget the point she was trying to make.

"You'll stay the night?" Rachel asks after their kiss breaks, wanting to keep Quinn safe for as long as possible.

Quinn nods, her eyes flashing with something like relief.

"Good," she replies, feeling her own measure of relief as she kisses Quinn again.

Rachel lightly runs her hands up and down Quinn's back, feeling Quinn relax under her touch. They stay like that for awhile, tangled up together on the roof, just breathing each other in as music continues to play softly in the background. Lyrics get caught and swirl around in Rachel's head, and without even thinking, they spill from her lips in hushed tones, "I will kiss you, I will kiss you, I will kiss you forever on nights like this I will kiss you, I will kiss you, and we shall be together."

Quinn shudders beneath her then, her hands twisting into Rachel's shirt, and Rachel holds her closer, pressing her lips to Quinn's hair. All Rachel wants is to be what Quinn needs, and on nights like this, with Quinn in her arms and a blanket of stars around them, she thinks she might be.


End file.
